


Violinist

by aspired



Category: Mystic Messenger (Video Game)
Genre: F/M, Instrument, NSFW, Porn With Plot, Smut, Vaginal Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-05
Updated: 2018-01-05
Packaged: 2019-02-28 20:43:31
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 750
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13279521
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/aspired/pseuds/aspired
Summary: Her instrument is a violin, so what is his?





	Violinist

**Author's Note:**

> Check out my tumblr, where this is also posted! @miss-mystic-mess

Your eyes skimmed the sheet music as you brought the bow to your violin, the strings connecting just barely to create a melodic him with barely any friction at all. Repeating the motion, it began to become a song with only rapid light brushes of string against string with swift movements of your hand.

The chinrest supported your head as you began to play the piece; creating art without a brush or canvas, only an instrument and your skilled fingers and the thin bow. The beautiful curves of the violin shone under the fluorescent lighting of the penthouse – as much as your [eye color] orbs shone.

Breathing in sync with the wooden instrument’s lullaby, your gaze drifted from the written tune to the cat lying asleep in your violin case. Her silky fur stuck to the black felt lining of the cover, causing your expression to soften. Someone appreciated the tune.

“[Name],” you ignored his footsteps as you played the instrument furiously than before, the pace quickening from a soft lullaby to a quick rapid beat. The cat’s ears were perked as she stepped out of the case. “Why aren’t you asleep?” Your fingertips moved rapidly along with the bow, flipping sheet music with your non dominant hand. 

The bow was soon taken from your grasp, the last note ending with a sharp noise that rang in the now silent room. 

“I was practicing a baroque piece,” you mumbled as he moved in front of you, holding the bow in his hands, a gentle smile on his face. “You mentioned the baroque era held many of your favorite pieces. So, I was practicing.” He lifted the violin from your grasp, setting it to lean against the wall, the bow still in his grasp. 

“You were practicing a piece in the middle of the night, for me?” He brushed the bow across your cheek, resting it on the tip of your nose, before slipping it into your palm once more. His hand then held your other, pulling you up from the seat in the center of the new music room. 

You held the bow behind your back as he kissed you softly, before wrapping his arms around you for a rougher embrace, the bow falling to the carpet below without much noise.

“I’m sorry for getting home late so often,” he mumbled to you between deep kisses, “The workloads only continue to increase.”

“Make it up to me,” you responded back before escaping his warm touch, setting the violin in it’s proper case, putting the bow inside with it. Elizabeth rested on the closed case, falling back asleep with silence surrounding.

Falling onto the bed’s plushness, you watched Jumin follow with haste, already undressing himself - something you’d done with your eyes prior. You pulled off the small dress you’d never bothered to change out of, and didn’t have to complete the action, as Jumin had taken it upon himself. Pulling off the dark purple bra, he clutched your breasts, his eyes gliding over every curve in the dim lighting of the bedroom while his grey eyes sparkled with a combination of love and lust.

His hands glided over your body, slowly pulling off the last small article of clothing, tossing it onto the floor below. Even the slightest touch excited you. Every touch. 

The band of his Calvin Klein underwear was growing tighter and tighter, and you watched him free his length, his lustful gaze remaining on you as he pulled a condom from the bedside drawer. Unwrapping it slowly, you leaned upward to trail kisses down his neck, his hands gripping your hips as he eased himself into your dripping womanhood. You moaned sharply, feeling every movement he made, voicing every time he moved. 

“Jumin, ah..” You muttered as you kissed him lazily, feeling his thrusts deep into your core, the heat rising as he began to take his finger and lightly stimulate your clit. “Ah, I’m..” Before you could finish, your orgasm interrupted you, your nails digging into your husband’s back as he pulled out to finish himself, your head resting in the crook of his shoulder.

“As much as I love hearing baroque, I love hearing you.” He mumbled as he wrapped himself around you in a big spoon position, his body warm against your figure. 

“We all love the music we create,” you murmured, smiling in a slight daze, “You too, are a musician. And I am your instrument.”

And he could play you like a fiddle.


End file.
